


Aster Bunnymund: Guardian, Pooka, Milf

by escavatedanastasia



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BDSM, Babytalk, Bondage, Breastfeeding, Genderbend, Implied Mpreg, Infantilism, Lactation, MILF, Multi, Petplay, Scissoring, Spanking, also Jack is cucked AGAIN sorry yall, me reading these tags: wwhwhat the fuck did I write, the other guardians like to lowkey bully bun it’s all good they’re all Great Friends, turns out....Sandy’s a freak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escavatedanastasia/pseuds/escavatedanastasia
Summary: Aster was already a good fuck, but now he’s a fake mom to his baby pookie dumpling Jack, who Mummy loves so much, yes he does. Since this turn of events the remaining Guardians have taken notice of his slightly sweeter attitude, his gentle gaze at his kit, and his new figure that comes with being a mama pooka. He’s branded now as the MILF, kind of as a joke, but not really since the Guardians all have plans for that new ass in those paint-stained mom jeans. Oh great, now Pitch wants inside those jeans, too. And you thought your life was in the shitter.





	1. Maroon & Cerulean

**Author's Note:**

> If the summary was any indication this is a sexy sequel to my previous fic Bunny Madonna so if u want the backstory to this to follow along better than read that one hey hey!  
> Also when I say Mom jeans in this I one billion percent want u to cite the snl Mom jeans sketch which also explains how his butt looks now

“There we are. I just better tighten this strap so ya don’t try and slip out. Not like you wanna,” Aster cooed, kissing the top of Jack’s head as he adjusted the baby carrier on his front. Jack, functioning as his pooka kit, was cozily fastened into it, his legs dangling by Aster’s waist as he watched the Easter bunny flaunt his new device in the mirror, as if he were saying, “why yes, I am a mum, would you like to invite me to a mum get-together? Oh this? This is my kit, Jack, he’s so talkative these days he’s almost making words.”  
Aster fixed his pale blue sweater under the carrier, tucking it partially into a pair of surprisingly comfortable “mom jeans” Jack had found him when he wasn’t shifted into a kit with their magical necklace. He’d told the other Guardians about the fantastic transformation and how happy he was to be a mother in a way again, and though they outwardly expressed happiness for him, they didn’t seem entirely convinced both parties enjoyed it. Now he was getting ready to head to the Tooth Palace to show this new Jack off to his fellow protectors and lovers. The both of them could switch on and off of these moods like a light, and if anything it was making their friendship outside those mental states stronger. And Jack, well he was a natural. One could barely recognize it was him in that small form, under all that fur, reaching at his reflection in the mirror and making intrigued little squawks like any ordinary kit. Aster adjusted his baby’s hat and white dress. When he’d first shown Jack the former he had to figure out how to call it anything but a sunbonnet, since Jack wasn’t as comfortable with dressing like some antique doll. Aster had to bribe him with chocolate milk in order to stuff him into the dress and short bloomers alone. Baby Jack had been gaining weight, and gods was Aster proud of himself for it. Not only did it slow him down a tad in case he tried getting into mischief, but he’d started looking more like he could be Aster’s own even if the pookas were still around, since his dearly departed husband was rather fluffy-boned too.  
“Ready for our picnic, dumpling?” he asked, receiving excited babbling in return as he grabbed a basket of goods and the baby bag. “Goin’ up.” He broke into a sprint, venturing into his Asia tunnel. Jack began floating out of the carrier as Aster ran, but he didn’t need to glance down to push his head back in, used to the shenanigans of his powers taking hold by now. He was greeted with Tooth’s fluttering embrace and kiss to the temple once he arrived at her abode, bending down to return it. The fairy looked down at his kit with wide eyes.  
“Jack, can you understand me?” she whispered, looking rather nervous until she got a timid nod from the kit, followed by him struggling with taking off the bonnet before the rest could see him dressed so babyish.  
“Hey, we don’t need to try that,” Aster chided as he fixed it before it could fall off the edge of the balcony they were on. “I don’t want you goin’ fussy over a sunburn again, no I don’t—which reminds me...” He grabbed a tube of sunblock from one of the outside pockets of the baby bag, smearing it on Jack’s nose until he sneezed. Tooth looked on in wonderment.  
“I don’t mean to stare, it’s just...you seem so in sync with him, more than before. How long have you two been doing this again?”  
“I’d say about...three weeks? Yeah, sounds about right. Feels like longer, though,” he teased, tickling the kit’s ears until he squealed and clapped his paws. “So are the other two down at the pond?”  
“Yup, just getting the blankets set up. Sandy brought some wine and cheese.”  
“How classy. Hope it’s ‘43.”  
Aster held Jack close before leaping off the side, walking a ways before arriving at the shallow lagoon. He kept his paws around Jack’s head to keep the bonnet intact as he greeted their other friends.  
“This Jack?” North asked, a meaty finger darting towards the kit.  
“In the flesh. I made the necklace he’s wearin’, so everyone is seein’ him through my eyes. Had to acquire an imagination crystal for the job.” He received a collection of understanding nods before unbuckling his carrier, setting it and the kit loose on the ground. He looked around as the other four locked their eyes on him, silently watching to see what Aster’s kit could do with his newfound freedom. It wasn’t long before he turned red in frustration and yelled “MABANA!” stomping one of his feet.  
“Fussy fussy!” Aster exclaimed, grabbing him and pulling him close. “Must be tryin’ to show off.”  
“What’s mabana mean?” Tooth asked as she started exploring the contents of Aster’s picnic basket.  
“Tough to tell. Could mean he wants milk, could mean he’s constipated. I promise he’s a sweet kit when it’s just me an’ him.” Aster sighed as Jack began to fuss and kick more, pulling a pacifier from the bag and sticking it in his mouth. That was Aster’s only method of discipline lately, though he didn’t like to silence his baby’s voice.  
“Does he have room in warren?” North asked, Sandy accompanying him with an image of a crib above his head.  
“Yes and yes,” Aster replied, bouncing Jack in his lap. “Made it all the same theme. I had to find so many pieces of this one antique collection with decor of fauns and butterflies an’ rabbits. As for the furniture I repaired a pookan crib, rocking chair and changing table. Can’t hardly see all that cause of all the toys he leaves on the carpet, though.” Aster grinned proudly at the chuckles he got from the other guardians. He was now being talked to like a real mum, like how other pookas used to ask about his babies.  
“Is he allowed to have crunchy foods?” Tooth asked.  
“I don’t really have rules set in place—I know he’s only a kit but I don’t want too big an imbalance tellin’ him what he can’t have when he’s centuries old, but...his teeth aren’t very strong. Maybe when he wants to start acting more like a toddler I’ll start setting a couple boundaries.” Aster suddenly felt an irritated pinch at his chest.  
“Hey, fusspot,” Aster whispered, not wanting to cause a scene as the others began to dig in. He fixed his ears forward so he could hear more than babbling out of Jack.  
“You’re the showoff,” Jack hissed in Aster’s arms. “I’m way too used to talking to the Guardians when they’re around—a-and they see me, but they’re not talking to me even though I’m all you ever talk about now!”  
Aster closed his eyes for a moment before getting up, grabbing his kit. “Excuse us.”  
He walked around the side of a cliff speckled with sapphires, casting a blue glow on the two of them.  
“Course you’re all I talk about now, you’re my baby boy,” Aster explained, rocking Jack a bit as the sprite’s scowl seemed to soften. “I can see how it’d be a bit overstimulating, but I think you fail to remember how excited you were to go on a picnic with mummy’s friends. It’s a big step, but you’ve hit so many milestones these past few weeks. Standing up by yourself and trying a few solids, Mama’s so proud.” He wiggled his nose against Jack, who was struggling to stay cranky  
about the matter.  
“Yeah, I just...I feel in the middle of the mood. Like half kit, half...me.”  
“I like to think the kit’s a part of you thatcha didn’t know you had,” Aster soothed, nuzzling against Jack’s fluffy cheek. “Either way it was a tremendous act of friendship for you to wanna do this for me.”  
“Yeah. Friendship.”  
“Sorry, Frost.”  
Jack had told Aster about his hidden affections a few days before, but sadly for him they weren’t really returned. Aster liked him as a friend and a kit, but didn’t see him as a lover, at least not to him. Besides the other guardians, which were more of a casual affection, he sought after older men with an Olympian physique, but he decided not to add that tidbit when kindly rejecting Jack’s romance.  
“You wanna fall back in?” Aster whispered. “My little baby? Can mama have a kiss-kiss?” He chuckled as he received a cold nip to the nose, knowing how much Jack basked in that baby talk. “Wanna take a nap after this, bug? I’ve padded my nest to soften it up just right, lotsa room to roll around—you’re so adorable when you do that, ya know that? Mama’s li’l roly poly.”  
Aster’s ears turned as he heard a swishing noise, turning around to spot Sandy looking on and waving teasingly.  
“Oi! Mind the picnic!” Aster scolded defensively, struggling not to find as much humor in being spied on as Jack did. “Bloody voyeur. S’like he’s never seen a mummy and his baby pookie before.” Those words cause Jack to cling tight to his back fur, and it was then that Aster could tell he was no longer in between.  
“Alright, gimme some’a that,” he ordered, bending down to receive his glass of red wine as he returned to the picnic. “Who wants to feed the baby so I can get a few bites in?” The other guardians quickly raised their hands. “Hate to say it, but North raised it first. Here’s the kit,” he handed a wriggling Jack over, “here’s the baby food. He can have bits of grownup food if it’s cut into small pieces.” He took a long sip of the wine. “Fuck, I needed that.”  
Tooth playfully swatted Aster’s hand. “Language! You’re a mother now, you can’t get off that easy.”  
“Oh please. Not gonna bend my own vocabulary for him. He’s heard it all already.”  
“Already a hippie mom, huh?” Tooth teased as she clinked glasses with him, watching Jack give North a hard time by avoiding the baby food, even though Aster could recall it was a favorite of Jack’s. He decided he was too relaxed to do something about it, looking on with a semi-wicked smile as he nibbled on a sandwich. Before he could completely wolf it down, however, his pride and joy started making kissing noises and grabbing at the air.  
“Alright, trouble, no need to bully the Soviet.” Aster took off his top and took the baby again, finding something a bit sweet in this game of hot potato. He casually kissed North’s cheek out of gratitude before holding Jack close to feed him. The guardians’ habits of kissing and often making love with one another without romantic commitment was so lovely, but he couldn’t let Jack in on the latter so early in his membership. He was Aster’s baby, after all. The mother doe smiled a bit more wickedly when he was sure Jack wasn’t looking, feeling their eyes on his uncovered tit. Tooth, ever possessing the preference for such a thing, drew closer, wrapping her arms around his waist possessively, looking over his newly plump ass. He’d gotten curvier since restarting his role as a mum, and the balance was tempestuous to certain fairies who shared such a ratio. And the way he groomed Jack’s ears as he nursed—she couldn’t wait to feel that tongue between her legs, making her wings flutter.  
North’s gaze was curious—Aster wasn’t quite so snippy or nervous now, perfectly relaxed as a soothing caretaker, especially given the influence of that strong wine. North had seen Aster begging beneath him, moaning out his name and curling into his touch, and in this light he looked just as soft and vulnerable. Had Aster not had a baby in his lap him North may have pulled the doe into his own, guiding his body up and down his arousal so the tired mother wouldn’t have to put much effort in.  
Sandy, of course, was the quietest of all of them, but knew where and how Aster liked being touched, just like the others. He felt rather dirty as he watched Aster coo and whisper at his darling kit, wondering if he’d like sand wrapped tightly around that pretty mouth, the rest of his body hog-tied so that all he could do was watch and listen to what was being done to him. He also wondered if he’d be interested in just that tonight.  
Aster smirked and gave them all a short, subtle nod. He didn’t know exactly what they each had in mind (except Sandy, who couldn’t keep much to himself), but now that he was the neighborhood hot mom he hungered to fulfill their needs. He waved his paw to sweep away the sandman’s image of his wildest dreams coming true, unable to withhold an embarrassed snort. With the way he was being admired he felt like he was the Virgin Mary, though far from her virginal state. He even felt his halo as he withdrew Jack from his breast and burped him, a part of the routine his kit had found to be rather funny, the way Aster’s mouth didn’t even twitch when a particularly loud one erupted.  
“Sleepy?” he whispered, hearing a tired whine in return. “Poor baby’s so full. Such a big day for a little kit. Wanna take a nap here in the pretty palace? Little change of plan for baby?” Aster tried not to grin so hard as he noticed his friends perk up at the suggestion. “I know there’s a pile of pillows somewhere here you c—“ He arched a brow as Jack’s head flew back, releasing a gentle snore. “Jesus, Sandy!” Aster snipped as he set the baby down. The sandman only offered an innocent shrug as he made Jack a bed of dreamsand and floated the baby just close enough to be in sight, but so fast asleep he wouldn’t be able to hear a thing.  
Aster rubbed his nose with a sigh before looking up.  
“Y’know you lot haven’t grappled for me like this since I was regular Jack’s age,” he remarked, crossing his arms.  
“I believe it’s because you’re a milf now.”  
“A milk?”  
“Milf. A mom I’d like to...” Tooth made exaggerated hand motions with tightened lips before giving up. “Fuck.” She wasn’t one to use such language outside the bedroom. “And my new chaise lounge is begging to have you on it.”  
“Oh, I’m gonna be busy with you three horny fucks today, aren’t I? Alright, I’ll give you some head, maybe I’ll do some fingerin’. How’s that?” He started another page of his mental bullet journal.  
“You’re a mother again, Bunny! You deserve a treat.” Tooth crooned as she floated up to his level.  
“If you’re asking if I’ve got a cunt to go with these tits, I can, I will, and now I do.”  
He turned to North and Sandy. “But not for too long. Requests for the so-called milf? Unless you just wanna watch us scissor each other and leave it at that,” he teased.  
“Anything that involve splitting that fat ass wide open,” North replied eloquently.  
“Oh, you noticed my ass?” he taunted, pulling down his soft jeans slowly so that it pooched more when it popped out from the tight waistband. “You wanna stuff an’ squeeze this babymaking ass?” He was so glad Jack couldn’t hear this silliness coming from his mouth.  
“Spank for that filthy mouth, mostly, but yes, that is also on radar, rabbit slut.” North teased back, doing just that as Aster walked by, getting at Sandy’s level. He knew what he was doing as he got into a doggystyle position to do so.  
“And you, ever the sadistic thing. Do you want me marked, choked out or chained up this time?” Aster bit his lip excitedly as a golden check mark appeared above, only to look confused as it morphed into Jack’s necklace.  
“What? Oh, you mean me wearin’ it? Well I suppose, but I don’t see how me being a kit would do in th—“ His brows ascended in intrigue as the sand formed Aster, shrunken a tad to about Sandy’s height and crouched to the floor, a leash dangling from his mouth as the figure seemed to wiggle his tail until a hand appeared, much taller than him, just to cruelly yank his ear. A foot appeared behind the same figure of Aster, kicking his tail end to shove him into the ground, forcing him to lap something up. By now the real Aster was flushing purple as the other two looked on, mumbling how they wanted to watch this unfold.  
“You got it, sunshine,” Aster told Sandy. “Never took you for one who liked to make pets cry, though.” He got up and placed his hands on his hips. “Alright ladies, first come first served.”  
Whatever this milf thing was, E. Aster Bunnymund was sure he was already a pro at it, if he did say so himself. Even though he did sympathize with Jack’s unrequited love for him, he’d indirectly opened up so many opportunities. And who knows, maybe Jack’s time with Aster would come when he hit a higher level of maturity. After all, the pooka was immortal, and he wasn’t going anywhere.


	2. Burgundy & Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more violent. Also has lesbian sex because I am one. Also it’s my birthday and I watched rotg with my girlfriend today. Recommend it it was pretty good might write a million stories about the gays who knows. Anyway if ur partner beats the fuck outta u call the police this is only allowed bc they’re 800 years old which is older than you and tremendously bored and wanna spice things up by being Horrendous. Also more baby Jack which I wanna write more of after the Sandy chapter. Ok yay!

Tooth’s sitting room was like a palace in and of itself. Aster found himself so distracted by the walls coated with stained glass rhombi and the unscathed tile floor that he didn’t notice the chaise lounge for a hot minute. North and Sandy already respected their privacy and stayed outside the room, but Tooth still locked the door in case one of her fairies flew in on them.  
“Oh yeah, just gotta make a couple minor adjustments,” Aster muttered, fiddling a bit with his shapeshifting repertoire until he became a fully realized, fully female pooka rather than the androgynous one witnessed moments ago. Tooth’s eyes went half lidded as she gazed over the spectacle—not much had changed on the outside, but big doe eyes made quite a difference in Aster’s face.  
“This might be counter-intuitive, but I liked when you were in lingerie when we last fucked, remember?”  
“I believe the boys liked it, too,” Aster remarked with a smirk. Her voice had changed, too. “Would I be able to fit the burgundy set?”  
“If those thighs do what you tell them. Nice stockings can be hard to come by,” the fairy teased, earning a sarcastic laugh as Aster slipped onto the couch, making herself comfortable.  
“Here you go, sweetheart.” Tooth handed her a fancy box containing a bralette, stockings, a garter belt and panties. Tooth herself found that lace rather clashed with her feathers—besides, it was always more fun to see Aster’s face when she realized the panties were crotchless after slipping them on.  
“Thought you didn’t wanna risk being counter-intuitive,” she remarked, exaggerating a glare. The fairy feigned a swoon as Aster spread her iridescent legs, slipping a couple fingers in. She expertly made a scissoring motion with them and smiled proudly as Tooth moaned, before contrasting this by whispering seduction into where she assumed her ears would be. “Just you an’ the milf, Tooth,” she growled. “You’ll be the only one at my mercy today—oh, but it feels good, doesn’t it? Pretty girl’s got you all riled up with nowhere to fly.”  
Okay, so Aster was taunting her to see what she’d get in return for foolishness, for so much as suggesting that Tooth was weakened. That was a suggestion Aster got off to being the receiving end of, but all she received by giving it was a shove onto the other side of the lounge. “Didn’t mean it!” she squawked the moment she was pinned down, but she received no word of reply. Tooth only ventured back, as if she were withdrawing, only to duck down and spread the pooka’s legs.  
“Oh, yes, please,” Aster moaned out, sitting up to grab the back of her head and hold it close to her cunt as Tooth worked her magic. “Oh, beautiful!” That was all Aster could shout as she tried not to hump too hard into her mouth. Before she knew it she’d climaxed for the first time that day. She was sure many more were to follow.  
Now it was Tooth’s turn to smirk, positioning her legs halfway around Aster. “You came pretty early, didn’t you? What a whore you are.” Aster scoffed at that as she started getting into the rhythm, claws keeping attached to the upholstery. Tooth noticed this additional bout of early excitement, deciding to mock her more. “I’d think having a baby would turn down that libido down by a million, but you never cease to surprise me.”  
“Now is that an insult?” Aster questioned, grinding herself hard against Tooth. “I mean at least I file my claws with you in mind.”  
“So generous!”  
“Coming from someone who takes teeth for a living, I like to think so.” The pooka pulled her into a passionate kiss, beginning to settle her hips until she glanced down. A shriek followed Tooth’s chuckle. “I take it you feel rather uplifted?” the fairy asked, wings buzzing.  
“Down! Put me down! You’re gonna break my neck!” Aster trembled as her claws sank into Tooth’s back to keep herself from falling. Her other half kept upright, legs crossed as she slowly sank back down. “I thought you’d like a little adrenaline boost to start up your next session.”  
“I think after all that I’d better make somethin’ up to get home—ah! Baby. The kit needs changed, I bet.” Aster froze as her arm was grabbed.  
“You’re not getting away that easily,” Tooth teased, enveloping her with her smaller frame from behind. “Pretty girls like you aren’t allowed to be one-night stands. You might not set boundaries with Jack, but I know you’re hungry for them with us.” She kissed Aster’s inner ear, a shiver running up the pooka’s spine. “Whatever needs the baby has can be taken care of right here by whoever’s not taking advantage of your generosity at the moment. I’m sure even you have taught him not to interfere with mommy’s work.”  
Aster was practically drooling at her words, sinking onto his knees as he transformed back. Tooth snickered wickedly, petting his head as the door busted open, welcoming in his next client to already see a wet mess on the ground, his ass up and welcoming.  
The bunny looked up at the giant with an insufferable grin. When he first became a guardian it was no secret he had a preference for large bodies and strong hands that could snap him like a twig. Being called weak in battle was a good way to pick a fight with him, but anywhere else it was the most beautiful invitation.  
“No work for you. Not strong enough. Taking care of kit tires you out, yes?” North whispered as he grabbed Aster’s arm and dragged him to the nearby guest room. Tooth smirked and crossed her arms in an Aster-like manner as she watched the boys disappear. The pooka’s feet squeaked as they skidded against the tile, right up until he and the baby bag with his spare clothes were flung onto the king sized bed.  
“Underwear off. Clothes back on. I get ready now,” North instructed, summoning a raised brow from Aster.  
“You wanna take off some ordinary mum clothes? Fuck, you’re an odd one.” Aster started to do as he was told before his face was suddenly grabbed and turned to the side. He winced as he felt hot cinnamon breath on his face and a calloused thumb and index finger squeezing his cheeks.  
“Behave, doe.”  
Aster hardened at the rough voice. “Yeah,” was all he managed to breathe out before he was let go. He unzipped the bag once he heard the bathroom door close, pulling out an appropriately formfitting sundress with daisies on it and a cardigan sweater. He replaced his lingerie with these articles, glancing himself over in the mirror. He’d packed the bag himself, of course, but he almost looked too cute for what he knew was gonna be a sloppy scenario. It was rather picturesque when he turned around, jumping a bit when his partner greeted him with everything he had.  
“Ah, too bad. Was almost counting on having to dress you myself like you do to Jack. Call you my little baby instead.” Aster tried not to look like he was already so painfully hard as North paced a ways around him as if he were a nude army inspector.  
“Your dress not very tight. You know what I’ve been looking at since you got here.”  
“The trousers are still at the lagoon,” Aster replied tightly. “I didn’t think my tunnels were worth the trouble.”  
“Brat,” came North’s blunt reply with a stinging smack under his skirt. “Not nice to talk back. Even a kit would know which is in charge of bed. You are no smarter than a kit, aren’t you?”  
Aster fumbled over something resembling a retort, but North was already too horny to wait any longer, hoisting him over his bent legs. Aster needed a good smack into shape if he was to behave like a respectful doe, after all, and if he was to be a good mother he had to quit playing dumb like a kit. And gods, Aster had made it quite clear to North before how much he loved being called an idiot. Aster felt a draft of cool air travel from his ass to his balls as the back of his skirt was lifted, sighing as he felt it being felt over.  
“So big and soft now,” North mused, tickling the base of his tail. “Like furry blue peach.”  
Aster cocked a brow at such an observation before the sharp crack of North’s strong hand against his ass forced an equally sharp cry from the pooka’s throat. He could even feel his superior’s gold ring hitting his skin.  
“Hurts me more than it hurts you.” North’s words had a sort of singsong tune to them, almost downright jolly. Aster turned over his shoulder to make another attempt at a rebuttal before he was hit again. He moaned loudly as he felt his ass being squeezed hard after the fact. Soon he found his sobbing wasn’t exaggerated—it hurt, gods it hurt, but it felt so delicious, each spank coming down with an audible POW! Soon he was grabbed by the hips and turned over, receiving a few slaps to his arousal as well, though more subdued.  
“Let me get a look at you, Aster.” North pulled him forward by the neckline of his dress, a smile growing on his lips as saliva sparkled in Aster’s open, moaning mouth.  
“Drooling kit. But I’m hungrier.” He unzipped the front of the dress. Aster removed his sweater as the dress’s straps fell down his shoulders, revealing his breasts again.  
“Is this where you say someone’s been naughty?” Aster asked, rolling his eyes at the confused pause from North. “You know, since I’ve got nothin’ on undern—“ A hard smack in the face sent Aster into the pillows. He gasped for air as he cradled his cheek in his right paw, turning his head only to get shoved back down into the plush. The pooka squeaked and squirmed as he felt something huge enter his hole, only to remember that was just how the man’s fingers felt when they lubricated him. North was always quite liberal with this, slicking up his insides as if he could only fuck him with that alone. The rabbit wouldn’t have even minded if it was just his cock rubbing between his cheeks—he knew how much the old man liked his lusty, desperate whines. However when Aster did feel him start to go in, he could understand just why North wanted his ass so badly now. He could feel his fingers curling greedily around the cheeks as he pushed himself inside, before they wandered up his back and massaged his shoulder blades to relax him.  
“I told you million and billion times, you don’t need to work a muscle today. I do all the work for the mommy today.”  
Aster snorted at being called that by someone so physically advanced in age.  
“Stupid rabbit can’t do it all on his own,” he teased, shutting Aster right back up again as he was pulled back into his lap, facing him.  
“Fuck! God, fuck...” Aster shouted as he sank slowly onto him, trying not to clench.  
“Only word bimbo knows?”  
“Fuck you.”  
“I hope you don’t teach your kit to be so impolite,” North said with a feigned pout as he took Aster’s hips, pumping him up and down his length as if he were nothing but a makeshift sex toy. “When Jack is old enough for us I cannot control two naughty Guardians.” He halted a swing at his face from the rabbit, used to such rough play from Aster whether he was acting like a kit or not. He pressed his thumbs against the pooka’s nipples, rubbing and seeming to revel in the subsequent surprised and annoyed protests as Aster soaked his chest with his own milk. The bunny could barely catch his breath before he became a cock sleeve again, feeling like he was on some demented carnival ride with the way he was rhythmically yanked up and shoved down. He still managed to stiffen a bit as he climaxed on his and his lover’s torso, taking this opportunity to shove North down on the comforter.  
“You’re the fuckin’ devil,” he hissed, getting his ass filled in response. It was then that they fell into their routine kissing and wrestling match, rolling on the bed as North abandoned his insults he knew Aster got horny for and replaced them with affections Aster was secretly aflutter for. Thus, the pooka’s barks of “Russian geezer” were exchanged with “sweetheart,” “stupid bald dickhead” with “twitchy little love” as the seed made an absolute mess of the comforter, falling not-so-delicately from the pooka’s fluttering entrance. Aster’s exhaustion eventually got the best of him, sending him back to the pillows with an ice pack on his cheek. He rubbed his own ass with a painful grimace. He’d barely survived round two, but now he was truly being treated like royalty as he hit the intermission. He took a sip of the hot tea offered to him, sinking lower into the mattress as he looked up at North setting the kettle down.  
“You know if I could die I’d end up doin’ it on your dick,” he muttered. “Don’t punch me in the face again, it’s just true. Thing’s not human.”  
“Neither are you, really,” North replied. “And you like purple on your cheek, you told me in 1927. You were wearing short dress and headband, champagne in hand.”  
The bruise on Aster’s cheekbone got a bit more saturated as he blushed. “Shut up. Or else I’ll tell the others how much dirtier you are with me.” He kissed the older Guardian’s cheek as he hoisted himself up, tightening Tooth’s silk kimono around his waist as he settled his teacup. He painfully hobbled down the stairs to where baby Jack was, North following behind once he got his own body covered. Aster hobbled quicker as he gently took his kit from Tooth’s hold, snickering as his face was grabbed.  
“So even Sandy couldn’t keep you asleep for too long, eh? Promise I won’t be much longer. Then you can consider the rest of the night Mummy-Jack time.”  
“Ni-Ni!” the kit echoed, yanking at his sunbonnet again.  
“Ah, sun’s gone. Alright, you win.” He untied the ribbon, setting his ears free to massage. Jack, however, seemed more interested now in the new mark on Aster’s face. He rubbed his fingers on it like the time Aster set him on a big canvas for the both of them to dance and leave painted paw prints on. Aster couldn’t smile at the memory as soon as he could wince at the contact on his wound, however. He struggled to come up with an excuse that didn’t translate to “I’m a masochist who likes getting smacked about, threatened and called horrible things.”  
“Just played a bit rough, babydoll,” he replied with a nervous laugh, kicking North away before his ass would get squeezed again. “Hey, how about Tooth takes you home and you can show her our painting? Just promise to guard the place before I get back, alright kit? Promise I’ll be back by morning.” He smiled as he listened to Jack’s giggle. The boy enjoyed how Aster liked to tease that he was any bit more intimidating than he looked. “Little mister Guardian. You can’t be such a big boy already,” he cooed, rubbing noses with him before handing him back to Tooth. He started to turn away before spinning back around. He hadn’t had a babysitter for Jack before and needed the meticulous bedtime routine to be respected and adhered to.  
“He takes the violet medicine every night, one big spoonful. Don’t let him talk you out of it. After that get him into the monster footie pajamas and let him blow off some steam. Then he gets a story, two if he’s good, he likes the thing with the puppets, the Sesame Seed.”  
“Street,” Tooth sweetly corrected as he bounced Jack on her hip.  
“Yeah. After that he gets changed—I use the quilted cloth, please don’t confuse them with the linen burp rags—then he has to say goodnight to the flowers around the nursery hut. His rule, not mine. Then give him a bottle and sing, and by then he should be out cold by the time I get back.”  
“I won’t even be done getting him in his pjs by the time you’re back!” Tooth chuckled. “Say bye to mommy, kit.”  
“Ma!” Jack attempted to stick a finger up the bigger pooka’s nostril as a farewell.  
Aster took the necklace and waved wearily as he watched the two fly into the moonlight. The magic left over from the stone would keep Jack as a pooka until morning. He felt a pinch of guilt, knowing the extents he would let his body and self esteem be put through once they were a speck in the sky. And oh, Manny. Ever the voyeur. Surely someone that unbreakable would have even bigger plans for him than Sandy. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what the Man in the Moon could be into, deciding it was something too alien even for him to fathom. Thankfully a couple of sparkling golden ropes yanked him back to reality, rather hard on the ground, in fact. North had disappeared—must have used the snow globe to follow Tooth and the kitling. It was just him and the seemingly harmless little Sandman.


	3. Obsidian & Topaz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to jumpstart the drama into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE also this chapter has some of Aster getting touched without consent so big fat warning

Aster gasped as he felt both of his ears yanked back and his face slammed into the ground.  
“Gettin’ off to an easy start, huh?” He steadily opened one eye as he started to get up, before a foot sent his skull back.  
“I’ve had enough of your wisecracks to last me an eternity, rabbit.”  
The voice that kept Aster bolting up from his nest for nights on end after the final battle. He dared himself not to look at that face.  
“Pitch, you...you’re banished. Wait, North. NORTH! SANDY!” he shrieked.  
“Time is of the essence, Bunnymund. That’s why I have it frozen for a few measly minutes—so you can listen to every word I say.”  
“THEN SAY IT!”  
“I want in. Not in the Guardians, never. But I need what you have. It isn’t fair that one of your team members lets you treat him like an infant when I get zip! I was a parent too, but of course everybody only sympathizes with you because your job is so much more respectable than being the Boogeyman.” The scorn in his voice didn’t phase Aster. He didn’t sympathize with monsters. In fact, he willed himself not to laugh out loud.  
“Oh, please. As if I’ll let you within a million miles of him. Surely you haven’t witnessed how protective a pookan mother can be of their kits.”  
“Surely you haven’t seen how strong I happen to be when I don’t get my way,” Pitch retorted.  
Aster felt the tip of what he was certain was Pitch’s scythe against his ear.  
“I don’t think the others would be too pleased to see this driven through your skull. I don’t have my nightmares back under my control, but I can control a vindictive little bunny rabbit. Have you forgotten how powerless you were the last time I saw you?”  
Aster was shoved onto his back, forced to look at that awful, slender face. He felt his breasts grabbed and squeezed hard as the pooka’s own fingers curled into rough, merciless stone.  
“I’ve been watching you with Jack. You have no idea how much he wants to fuck you. It’s almost sad how he stares from his crib when you make chocolate in just an apron only to feed him bits of them by hand. He sucks your fingers that hard on purpose.”  
“Pitch, stop,” Aster begged, but that only egged him on.  
“He gets over the absolute humiliation of using diapers and sucking off your tits if it means you give him the slightest kiss or utterance of love. But of course a mother would never admit their kit was agonizingly attracted to them.”  
Aster tried to scramble away, but he was already caught by a natural hunter. Thin fingers wrapped tightly around his arms.  
“H-He already told me he liked me and I turned him down. I don’t want him that way, he’s only a kid. Now get the fuck away from me!”  
Pitch spoke through clenched teeth. “Not until I can get a piece of the action. I won’t give him nightmares. I will never hurt him.”  
“And why should I trust you?” Aster spat.  
“Because I’ll hurt the both of you if you don’t. The warren is a lovely place. It would be such a shame if I eventually grew powerful enough to find a nice vessel in your body. You would destroy everything you ever loved.”  
Aster couldn’t find a single word to describe the horror he was feeling just thinking about yet another life lost in his hands, this time with only himself to blame.  
“Don’t...please don’t hurt Jack.”  
Pitch sneered. “Then it’s settled. Oh my, I must have ruined your appetite for sex now, haven’t I? Now you’ll have to wait until next time to be their whore. But look on the bright side,” he chuckled a little, “you just got yourself a new husband.”  
“Get the FUCK off’a me,” Aster ordered, shoving him off. “I’m at my prime with my powers. Now I can’t take life away, though in your case I sure as hell’d love to, but I can tear you a new hole just like the one you crawled out of. Now get outta the palace.”  
“Already my ball and chain,” the boogeyman taunted before vanishing into thin air.  
Sandy appeared behind Aster, scaring the living daylights out of him. He could only fully catch his breath when he was caught in his embrace, and even then he had to lean over and retch a bit from what had just happened.  
“I’m...I’m sorry mate, I can’t do this tonight, I need to get back to the warren.”  
Sandy didn’t need to summon a question mark to look confused.  
“I’ve got everything perfectly under control, I promise, I just...Jack. I gotta make sure he’s safe. Please don’t follow me, a-and don’t let North, please don’t let North.”  
He distributed this same panic in a thick layer once he met Toothiana back at the warren, brushing aside her questions as to why he was back so early.  
“I can’t talk about it,” he insisted, his voice going high in his mania. He looked over at his darling Jack, who slept so soundly in his crib, before looking back into Tooth’s eyes. “Please trust that I’ll tell you all about it when I’m safe, when Jack and I, when we’re both safe and alright.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, his shaking fingers alone going into their own hysterics. “I had a lovely afternoon. Thank you. Uh...” He impulsively grabbed her and slammed his mouth against hers, coating his lips with her saliva.  
Tooth pulled back after a moment, sweeping a feather back with a nervous laugh. “A bit daring for you, don’t you think? I’ll see you later, Bunny. I hope you know what you’re doing.” She gave him a final look of concern before flying away, just as Aster felt a couple hands on his shoulders.  
“You handled all of that very well. And so much delicious fear bleeding out of you, what a lovely bonus.”  
Aster gulped, spinning around.  
“If you’re gonna get any sorta reaction outta me beyond batshit crazy, you’re gonna need to change forms right now. A fuckin’ fettuccini ghost isn’t the same as a pookan buck, and you know it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have killed mine.”  
“I didn’t know you then. One would think all would be forgiven after a thousand years.” Pitch’s fingers crept dangerously down Aster’s chest. “I can only imagine how sweet you looked ripe with kits in that womb, resting against a couch as you fed eight at a time. What a renaissance pooka you must have been.”  
Aster kept his eyes cold and forward as the digits wandered between his legs, past where his dick sheath was.  
“I wonder how your biology let you push out kits in the first—“ Aster felt his insides light themselves ablaze as an old entrance in his natural form was rediscovered. “Oh, I see. You have both. A renaissance pooka indeed.”  
Aster felt himself go limp under a touch he hadn’t felt from any of the Guardians before.  
“You want more children, don’t you? Greedy doe. I bet you wish you could take every child whose mother isn’t exactly like you. Jack’s your baby, but he’s not really yours, is he? He had a different mother altogether. A human, just like he was. And of course he cared more about finding the mere memory of her than even noticing how much you wanted to scoop him up and baby him from the start.”  
“Well, not from the start,” Aster spoke in a hushed voice, halting a growl that had started up inside him. “First battle with you that he was in, I...”  
“Go on.”  
Aster glared up at Pitch. “I stopped him from getting hit by one of your fuck-ugly horses. Now put this on.” He tossed him a necklace with a topaz pendant. “It’ll clean you up a bit. Make you look like you belong with us. You can’t even groom a kit lookin’ like that unless you wanna scare the shit outta him.”  
Pitch slid it on with a dark glare, right up until his eyes widened and he and Aster were sent down. Aster sat up, shaking off the pain and making a mental note to get that symptom fixed. He looked Pitch up and down. He was still tall, but he now had a rather hulking physique. The sheen of his black fur glimmered in the candlelight as his dark glare returned as yellow as the topaz around his neck, and his slender face and pointed nose still remained, albeit coated in fur.  
“Alright, you’re not the baby here. Get the hell off my carpet and go to sleep before you’re stuck with the baby all night,” the rabbit ordered.  
“Oh my, so generous. And where might the marriage bed be?”  
The pooka’s lips tightened. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, about sleeping with the enemy.  
“Out the back door. It’s a nest. Sleep on the right side. And don’t fucking touch me.” He sounded like he was going to start crying again. However when the two of them did hit the bedchamber, he couldn’t shake how those horrible fingers felt on him, even if they were only mere memories now. He needed a husband’s touch again, he needed it, he yearned for it, he could scream out for it, he needed true romantic love and compassion. And with that a truly horrible question entered Aster’s mind.  
_How long is Pitch gonna stay?_


	4. Oats & Carrots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck you, Pitch.

Aster cursed himself for ever falling asleep that night. He thought he’d spend the night bawling out of sheer terror, or at the very least leaping into Jack’s crib to hold him close, yet he bolted up at a decent hour. His grass hummed in greeting as he sprung over to the hut as fast as his legs could carry him—the silence from the other two souls in the warren was deafening. His tunnel vision sent him straight over the side of the crib, its contents empty save for a stuffed lion and a pink blanket. The rabbit started to feel dizzy. He knew Pitch would do something sinister, but to go so far as to take Jack, poor confused Jack...Aster’s whimper couldn’t help but crescendo into a blood-curdling shriek as every nerve sent him to the floor.  
“Oh dear,” he heard Pitch murmur as he approached him, clad in one of Aster’s kimono bathrobes and holding his baby, miraculously still sleeping yet turned back into a frost spirit due to the necklace being removed. Thus, his kit-sized nightshirt looked like nothing but a regular shirt, albeit with the words “trouble monster” emblazoned on the front.  
“You really thought I would take advantage of your hospitality? Newsflash, rabbit—I had to soothe your kit back to sleep after he had a complete screaming fit just from hearing my voice.”  
“What did you—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Aster winced in pain from the day before as he got up, “what’d you do to him, asshole?”  
“I made some chamomile tea. There’s more on the stove. Take him, he smells like an heirloom candle.”  
“It’s called baby lotion, idiot,” the pooka spat, deciding not to turn Jack back into a bunny just yet. He needed to tell him everything before this was to go any further. He found the rocking chair and took a seat, providing Jack the beginnings of a tongue bath until he groggily woke up.  
“Mommy? Wh—shit, I forgot what my real voice sounded like for a minute there.” The sprite glanced down at his shrunken baby clothes and blushed. “I could’ve sworn Pitch was here, it was insane, he was this big pooka and you weren’t even there to kick him out and all I could do was scream and, an—OH MY GODS!” His eyes widened as they landed on Pitch. “Where’s my staff—BUNNY LET ME GO! He’s standing RIGHT THERE!”  
Aster struggled to simmer his own racing heartbeat as he stood up, still holding the thrashing Jack as he stared Pitch down.  
“Give us some privacy.”  
Rather than give him a chance to leave on his own, Aster shoved him out the front entrance of the hut, slamming the door in his face and locking it shut.  
“Are we being held hostage?” Jack asked, biting his lip. “I think I can get the wind to get us out of here.”  
“No—well, maybe, I...Pitch has been spyin’ on us for some time now. I guess we’ve been too busy enjoying ourselves here to really be on guard.” Aster reddened at his own words. He’d always been one step ahead of everyone, and now he was caged with his captor. “But he’s not after believers this time. He’s jealous of you and I, how you’re happy to be my little baby, a-and he can’t just grow up and put one of his nightmares in a stroller or somethin’.”  
Jack could only stare up at Aster, awaiting a conclusion.  
“So now it appears that...you’re gonna have a Papa too...for a bit.” Aster winced, barely getting the words out.  
“What? I can’t call him that.”  
“We can try other names—Daddy’s a bit...eh, maybe Dada, I called my own father Da...”  
“Are you serious, Bunny? What happened to the guy who swore he’d take him down the next time he laid eyes on Pitch? You’re just gonna back down?”  
“If I don’t, he says he can take over my body, use it like a puppet to kill you and everybody else...” Aster’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so sorry, Jack, it just felt like the right decision. Like we could both play along until he got bored. Now it’s all comin’ back to me, and, o-oh gods, I wish my mother were here, she’d know how to solve all this.”  
Jack leaned close, resting his head on Aster’s chest. “Two straight days of being a kit and I wake up in human form to this. We can beat him at his own game somehow, Roo.”  
Aster sniffed, offering Jack a shaky smile as he took the pendant necklace off a shelf. “When’d you get to be so mature? If the morning wasn’t already so strange I’d say our roles were reversed.”  
He draped the chain over Jack’s neck, shaking off Pitch’s words about him only going along with it because he had a crush. He was getting used to the mini atomic blast from the magic that shoved them both to the ground, leaving Jack back in the pooka form that started this whole catastrophe. Aster got up and unlocked the door, letting it creak open as he began to go about the normal morning routine. Pitch slinked against the wall, observing as the mother doe set out some stuffed blocks for Jack to get into before unceremoniously shoving the tea off the stove and preparing some oatmeal. Aster could sense Pitch staring over his shoulder as he silently stirred the bubbling pot with a wooden spoon.  
“I assume that doubles as a tool for corporal punishment?” Pitch asked, not sounding as smug as he was curious.  
“I do not spank my child,” Aster answered coldly.  
“Could have fooled me.”  
The grey pooka felt his hips grabbed and ground against something firm.  
“You changed your figure out of pure vanity, I can tell. Pretty mummies are so approachable. So easy to pleasure.”  
“I told you not to fuckin’ touch me,” Aster snarled.  
“Oh, but you’ll be begging for me to touch you eventually. Here, here, here, here, and all the way up here.” He felt his cunt being teased again. Aster’s wrists were now clung to, forced behind his back as the spoon slid out into one of Pitch’s large paws.  
“I wonder how far this can go through the cobwebs in your beautiful flower? I can’t wait to get a good sniff.”  
His arms were suddenly freed, the spoon returned just as the pot began to boil over. Pitch brushed by him as if none of it had happened. Had it? Could it have been a dark fantasy or a cruel manipulation of Aster’s ongoing panic attack? His knuckles tensed around the spoon’s stem, putting out the stove’s fire with his other paw as he turned to see Jack. Pitch was looking up from above like a god, far too dignified to possibly join the kit in his play. The same kit was too out of it to notice Aster’s second assault so far mere moments ago, as he only blew raspberries upon tearing down his own towers.  
“That is counter-productive,” Pitch pointed out, causing Jack to look up in confusion. “Rome didn’t fall in a moment.”  
“He’s an infant,” Aster retorted with an irritated glare, nearly spilling the breakfast as he yanked it from the stovetop, setting it on a potholder he’d knitted before turning to get the baby. He froze as he helplessly watched Pitch take him in his arms, sliding him into the high chair. Of course Jack was annoyed by this and the lack of doting and cuddling that usually followed anything involving picking him up.  
“How kind of you...dearest,” Aster growled, clenching his teeth. That was his baby. Aster’s baby! He grabbed the closest seat to Jack before Pitch could steal that, too, tying the silken ribbons of a bib he’d embroidered himself around his kit’s neck before serving him a spoonful of the warm, thick cereal.  
“Such a good baby kit! Little prince loves breakfast, doesn’t he?” It was Pitch’s turn to roll his eyes as Aster babied Jack, his coos returned with gurgles and happy claps as the oatmeal mostly landed anywhere but the kit’s mouth.  
“Messy baby pooka! I can’t believe you’re this chubby with how much you spit out. Let’s try catching it in our mouth, alright? Here comes the bumblebee!”  
Pitch stirred his own bowl absently as Aster made a ridiculous buzzing noise that surprisingly prompted Jack to eat the rest of his meal without much more of a mess. The boogeyman remained hunched over, almost too bulky and muscular to be contained in a modest pookan chair, despite him now being a pooka. He remained seated as he watched what he’d been watching for weeks, even after Aster got Jack out of his seat and changed him, gave him a tongue bath, and dressed him, cuddling and kissing him all the while. He decided to get up and walk over to where they were practicing their morning exercise, an enthusiastic game of peek-a-boo with Jack’s legs functioning as the illusion of Aster’s face disappearing. The kit wore a sweater with carrots on it, no doubt knitted with love by Aster, corduroy shortalls and knee-high striped socks.  
“Where’s mummy hiding?” Aster sang, grinning as his kit chirped in return, making grabby paws until he was revealed. Pitch crossed his arms as Aster blew raspberries into his stomach.  
“I’ve never seen you more entertained by the most mundane amount of cooperation from a toddler.”  
“Well he can’t quite toddle yet, though he’s starting to stand up on his own. Such a fast crawler though, yes he is! Mama’s perfect baby boy!”  
Pitch scowled as they returned to their constant giggling and snuggling, before deciding he’d had enough.  
“I’ve had enough,” he announced. “It’s my turn to take him now.”  
Aster looked like he was going to start hissing at Pitch like a hostile domestic cat.  
“He hasn’t even finished his exercise yet. And after this he gets milk, which you most certainly can’t provide.”  
“I most certainly can. Not naturally, but I’m sure it isn’t too much of a hassle to fix a bottle of yours, is it, cow? I wonder, if I squeeze them hard enough can I get you to moo?”  
Aster’s claws coiled into the carpet so as to not draw from Pitch’s flesh instead. His ears were stiff as he struggled not to lash out and slit his throat, at the very least.  
“Why don’t you go get that ready like a good doe?” Pitch asked, unfazed by the war zone in Aster’s bright green irises. “And get dressed while you’re at it—I was kind enough to lay clothes out for you beside our bed.”  
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Aster asked tightly as he stood up, scurrying out of the room before Jack could cling to his leg. He peeked out the doorway only to watch Pitch grab a ball and throw it to the other side of the room, ordering the kit to fetch it. Aster huffed as he stormed over to his nest where only a pair of silk high-waisted panties, a crocheted cardigan and lacy stockings were present at the scene. Conveniently the long sweater lacked buttons. He cursed himself, his livelihood and his top drawer miscellaneous articles he was now forced into. On the way back to the nursery he grabbed the breast pump and a clean bottle, grumbling as he dumped himself in the rocking chair and got to milking himself in front of the two of them.  
“Goodness, not a very modest choice in clothing, is it Mother?” Pitch taunted. “It’s almost as if you want your kit to think you’re a tramp. Shame that none of it matches, either. I’m surprised that doesn’t just drive you insane.”  
Aster screwed the lid on tightly before hurling the bottle at the stronger pooka like a seasoned pitcher, nearly hitting his head before reflexes saved the both of them a world of pain. Pitch gave him a warning glare that spun Aster’s stomach as he cradled the kit in his arm, gingerly sliding the bottle’s nipple into his mouth. Jack attempted in vain to push it away before his fingers curled into themselves, sending him into his morning nap.  
Aster was livid, boiling over like the oatmeal had. The only words in his mind were mine, my, kit, baby. _My baby. Kit mine. Baby. Kit. Mine. My kit!_  
He trembled as he dropped to his knees, crawling like a leopard on the prowl to Pitch’s side. They sat in silence for just over a minute as Jack drank, the bottle bobbing up and down.  
“Precious, isn’t it?” Pitch crooned, spoiling the mood. “If only you’d succumb to me this easily.” He reached around to tug Aster’s tail out the slit in the back of his panties before trailing up to grope his breast again.  
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” Aster repeated, but this time he didn’t pull away or swat him off. He could only watch his kitling drain his bottle, almost wishing Pitch would get it over with and fuck him to death just for failing Jack.


	5. Iron and Linen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch read the last chapter and though hm. How can I be more of an asshole

“Place him in the crib.” Pitch spoke this through his teeth, his growl more animalistic in this form, naturally. “We can’t have him waking up and spoiling our fun. On the other hand, I would love to hear you scream. Should I go in raw to tame the savage beast?”  
Aster huffed, scooting back as he felt the other’s lewd gaze undress him. He rarely wore clothes—what was the point of dressing him like a “tramp” if barely anything was left to the imagination already?  
“Bashful now, aren’t we? I wonder, have you given any thought to your possible possession? How it’ll feel when the fear courses through your body? Because I can guarantee one thing for you—it’s better than the best fuck you’ve ever had.”  
“What would you even do with my body?” Aster questioned with a scoff. “What’s the upgrade, better hearing? I mean you’d be so much more attractive, but that’s just a petty thing. You wouldn’t even know how to use my powers.”  
“You think nightmares would just bend over backwards to make pretty flowers?” Pitch threw his head back and cackled, prompting Aster to rush over and scoop Jack up lest he was dramatically hurled across the room.  
“You make me want to vomit, rabbit. Yet I can still see you consumed—not entirely yourself, but just recognizable enough to sit back and watch as you singlehandedly destroy yourself. Nevertheless, I’m still keeping my promise to not harm you until you try to lunge at me, thus I’m going to need to clip your wings. I thought we could have a mutual trust of each other, but now with this hostility of yours I can see how wrong I was to assume.” He sighed and started rifling through the kitchen cabinets.  
“What are you doing?” Aster demanded, scrambling onto his feet.  
“I suppose a skillet could do the trick. I can’t ask you since you’re not accustomed to discipline.”  
Aster started to back up against the wall, covering his head with his paws.  
“Don’t, don’t, please,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as he was slowly cornered. The blow he felt a mere moment later wasn’t anywhere near his skull, and in an instant he realized how moronic he was to think Pitch could kill him, would kill him.  
He fell to the floor, drawing in a shocked breath as a searing feeling started at his knees and spread up the rest of his body. He lost his balance, his legs now completely useless, only to fall into Pitch’s arms.  
“If you ever need to hold the baby, I’ll get him for you.”  
The screaming began. Loud and intermingled with sobbing. Jack quickly woke up, bolting into the air to defend his fellow Guardian, but he couldn’t make it over the crib bars, and even if he took off the necklace at this point it would take hours to full turn back into his normal form. All he could do was reach between the bars and watch the show from the sidelines, huge eyes alight with tears of horror as Aster was battered. Pitch’s voice was overwhelmingly calm, almost soothing, just like it was when Jack first confronted him in his lair.  
“I will provide for you two from now on.”  
The wrought iron skillet clattered to the floor. Aster’s body trembled as it started to go limp.  
“You need to trust your husband, sweetheart. Imagine how the other Guardians will feel about us being together, taking care of Jack. You don’t need that trouble—what you need is some time at home with our baby.”  
Aster’s vision was cloudy. The screaming persisted as tears ran down his cheeks.  
“I knew you’d understand. What a good doe you are. I’ll be sure to get you a proper wheelchair if I feel like it later, though it will be a privilege I can easily take away.”  
Aster turned his ear as he heard something else, something he hated so much he had to grit his teeth, hide the blood pooling on the floor. Jack’s screams filled the room as loud as Aster’s, as if they could call for the Guardians from down in the warren to help them.  
“I’m going to head to work for the day, but I should be home by the evening. You two have a lovely day.” Aster opened one eye as his temple was kissed lovingly.  
“D-Don’t,” he whispered. “I can’t move, I—“  
“I know, it must hurt quite a lot. Poor thing. It’ll be fine, Aster. I’ll come back.”  
His first name being uttered by Pitch shook him to his core.  
“Please, please...”  
“Oh? Do you want something?” Pitch looked over his shoulder.  
“The kit, please, Jack, he can’t get outta the crib on his own...”  
“How convenient. I’m sure you like him restrained like that so mommy can do whatever he pleases.”  
Livid, Aster pounced at him from the floor as ling, working legs passed to collect the kit, only for Pitch to look down as if he were a leper.  
“I don’t think you want to suffer another unfortunate injury this morning, my bride.” He avoided Jack’s swiping paws with sharpened claws as he set him down beside Aster on the floor, his body trying to decide if it should go numb or bring in more pain.  
“Take good care of mummy while I’m gone,” Pitch crooned as Jack’s hands hovered over Aster’s bashed-in knees. “You might be able to crawl better than him now.”  
Pitch tossed his own necklace to the floor before morphing into his true form and vanishing into the air. Aster wasn’t sure if he’d really left, not like he’d be any help either way.  
“Uh...fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Jack blinked back tears as he wracked his mind. “Let’s...let’s get you on the rocking chair.”  
“Yeah, yes just, grab under my arms.”  
Jack grimaced as he started to pull, but fell back on the carpet.  
“Can’t you use the necklace to turn me back?”  
“You know I would if I could, all I can think about is my legs, a-and Pitch, oh God we’re both gonna die here!” Aster hid his face in his hands as he started crying again.  
“No, Bunny, we...what about your center? Why don’t you hold onto hope, and just...push on the floor with your hands so you can get into the chair?”  
Aster wiped his nose and nodded shakily, daring himself not to glance again at his blood-soaked stockings. He was sure it looked so much more terrible underneath. He scooted himself back, taking a deep breath before hoisting himself upwards.  
“Baby wipes, b-bandages. Ice pack,” he whispered, having just enough composure to get Jack to change into himself, albeit with rabbit legs, ears and a tail. He grabbed a diaper cloth and his staff, freezing the inside before tying it up and resting it on Aster’s right knee. He then set to work pulling down the pooka’s left stocking to wrap the ghastly gouge up in a rag.  
“Why’d he do this?” Jack asked softly, still horrified to see Aster scream and cry like that, to see how withdrawn Pitch was about it.  
“He’s Pitch, I-I shoulda known he’d crack the whole semi-polite thing the first chance he had, you...y-you were right.”  
“I what?”  
“You asked if we were being held hostage. This is a hostage situation. We’re the hostages. Even if Pitch ties a pretty bow on it and says we’re some sorta demented family.”  
“Then I gotta get us out of here!” Jack firmly curled his fingers around the wipe he was using to sop up the blood.  
“No, you Jack, you gotta yourself outta here, I can’t leave my warren alone, a-and if I try to leave him, well I already told you! You’d die anyway. We’re both fucked.”  
“You really still expect us to play along?”  
Aster tightened his lips, frustratedly gesturing at his recently out of commission legs.  
“Go through the motions until I come up with a plan, Jack. I don’t want your kneecaps bashed in, too, or worse.”  
“I can defend the both of us,” Jack argued, his voice hard. “You can’t shove my help away, I...love you too much.”  
A pink tint rose in the sprite’s cheeks.  
Aster sighed raggedly with a strained rustiness that wasn’t usually there, which only sent the pit in Jack’s stomach up further, as if he didn’t already feel like throwing up.  
“You can help Mummy out by being a good kit.” Aster winced as he pulled him into his lap, causing Jack to look downward. It was rather embarrassing to look like a nearly fully grown adult and be babied, even if he liked the latter. “You can help make breakfast for yourself, and I’ll feed you. You can tell me when you need a change, and I’ll walk you through it and supervise. Clean up your own spills, set out your toys. Jack, you’ll need to be a kit for as long as you can to pull this off. And as much as I absolutely hate to say this...let Pitch get involved. Pretend he’s just always been here, always a part of our stupid, ugly little lives. Like, l-like being big and small at the same time. You can do that, yeah? You can be a big kit, too.”  
Jack glanced at his overalls and sweater. “I feel like anything but that, Bunny.”  
“That’s the spirit.”  
“Well...at least let me stay in this form until Pitch comes home. Just in case he pulls any more shit while he’s away, so I can guard the house with my staff.  
Aster heaved out that rusty sigh again.  
“Alright. But I can’t stand seein’ you so skinny in this form, kit. We need to at least get some real rose on those cheeks so I feel like a decent parent.” He pulled Jack close and kissed his cheek before slowly setting him down.  
“Go play. I can tend to my knees from here.”  
Jack reluctantly crawled off to attend to his toys, though he figured it wouldn’t be as fun with Mommy watching from the sidelines, unable to get on the floor to play with him like he usually did. Before long, however, Jack got in the zone, not even thinking about how deep his voice was when he cooed at his stuffed lion or showed off his crayon masterpieces, only how sweet and adoring Bunny’s smile was when he did so, or when he sucked his knuckles, a habit Bunny had casually confessed to having when he was a kit that was now carried on to the next one.  
Jack struggled for the majority of the afternoon to keep that gnawing worm of Pitch’s eventual return out of his head, pretending it was just an ordinary day like Aster wanted. Beet-flavored baby food for lunch. A light tongue bath. A story, a lullaby, a sleepless nap. Nursing, a nappy change, all while Aster kept to knitting his kit a winter hat and biting his lip so as to not groan in agony too much. He checked and rewrapped his wounds by the hour, realizing how uncomfortable the rocking chair could be on his spine. The melon root he used for his knee pain couldn’t travel that far. He was right in the position Pitch wanted him to be, helpless, pathetic, hopeless. Just willing to ride it out and give however many blowjobs it took for him to go away. And when Jack looked away or closed his eyes for more than a few moments, he’d cover his mouth and cry a bit, hoping the ripples of his ponds and music of his plants masked the noise.


	6. Purple and Ivory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tables have turned bitch !! Except not exactly in a good way also dark bun makes his debut so I guess he’s counted as an oc even tho I didn’t exactly plan it that way aaaaaaa oops

“Bunny, I’m ho-ome!” Pitch sang before manifesting in front of Aster and Jack, the latter of which squealed as he was consequently poofed into a full kit again. “And I brought some things from the store. Not to mention dinner, since you’ve got nothing to offer from your kitchen besides barley and cabbage.”  
He dropped paper bags from a fast food restaurant into each of their laps. Aster looked up with a fiery glare.  
“Are you trying to clog our arteries?” he snarled, ripping the bag open and sniffing its wrapped contents.  
“You’ve already done that to our kit—why look how tubby he is already. I thought you’d be more grateful.” Pitch knelt down and started setting up Jack’s meal on his highchair and opening the toy that came with it.  
“Am I the only one who’s gonna acknowledge my shattered knees? The knees you shattered? Fuck if I’m grateful. And kits are supposed to be fat to insulate for the harvest seasons. Every real pooka would know that. It’s a bloody nursery rhyme, for fuck’s sake. A chubby kit is a healthy kit. Now what did you manage to fuck up with my order?”  
Aster was almost afraid to peel the paper back and see, but his wish to know was granted.  
“A lettuce wrap. I tried to find the least interesting thing that could be made there.”  
“Bud!” the kit chirped, holding up the tiny stuffed penguin he’d been given.  
“It is a bird! Smart kit!” Aster praised, ruffling his head as Pitch picked Jack up and locked him into his seat. “Wait a minute, how exactly did you acquire this food anyway?”  
“I possessed one of the workers,” Pitch replied nonchalantly. “He was already in the work flow so I let his autopilot work the culinary expertise for me.”  
“Why do all that when we don’t even need to eat to live?”  
“The same reason you made that chalk soup you called oatmeal this morning. Families eat together. Now, are you going to enjoy your dinner or am I going to have to force your jaw open and shut to chew it and absolutely ruin your teeth like I did your knees?”  
Adrenaline threatened to seize Aster, yank his fist back and forward straight into Pitch’s jaw. Shove him to the ground, keep punching. Don’t forget both eye sockets. In fact, pull out both his eyes, and his hair, and his balls, and make an oatmeal out of them and force him to guzzle down his own stupid self.  
Aster’s claws were stuck in the wood of the rocking chair. He flinched as he retracted them, chomping into the wrap. Clumps of lettuce and mayonnaise spilled out, along with a few chunks of chicken.  
“Oh, I can’t eat that,” he muttered. Pitch looked down from where he was feeding Jack a fry.  
“Vegetarian?”  
“More like an involuntary herbivore. I can’t digest it. Unless you’d rather I be too busy having explosive diarrhea to even think about the kit?”  
“Well, it’s a start to your ultimate ruin. But I suppose you can pick out the nasty bits like a smart doe. Unless you’d rather not be that, either?” he taunted. “I know how wet you get when North so much as suggests that you aren’t as clever as you make yourself out to be. It would be adorable if it weren’t so depressing.”  
“Jack, don’t listen to him. Pitch, I swear to FUCK you are not giving me a single chance to be the least bit civil with you. Want a happy home? Fine. I’m a decent actor. But you gotta give me somethin’ to work with. A little positive affirmation. A little sincere compliment.”  
Pitch looked taken aback by Aster’s tirade. His hand fluttered over his chest to mock a racing heartbeat.  
“Why, I never knew you felt that way about all this. Who lusts after compliments anymore, a Sunday school teacher?” He shook his head, muttering something intelligible but no doubt demeaning. “You are the physical manifestation of a dark cloud when the attention is off of you for one millisecond.”  
“Who was it that lead an army of fuck-ugly horses across the planet because he wasn’t getting enough scrutiny?” Aster demanded with a scoff. “You wanted everybody to give a shit about you even if it was a nasty shit. You don’t care what kind of attention you even get. It’s fuckin’ pitif—you’re fuckin’ pitiful.”  
“Oh, if I hadn’t already smashed your knees,” Pitch spoke with a pout. “Oh well. I got some painkillers for you as well. I’m sure they’re much more potent than whatever outdated witchery you cooked up. Too bad they’re headed down the loo.”  
Maybe Aster could just swallow Pitch’s balls in front of him before eating his eyes. That might work.  
“Unless, of course, you’d like to stop me. Let’s see, what do smart does do? Well, they like making love, and subsequently making so many kits for themselves and their buck. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but you would kill for kits of your very own again, wouldn’t you?”  
“Really, Pitch? Why’re you sayin’ all this in front’a Jack?”  
“Because as the buck I think this family should treasure honesty. Unless, of course, you’d rather start the evening out by glimpsing into the potential future where you finally blow your top for good and get your just desserts in the process?”  
“No, I get it, I get it,” Aster griped, shoving a greasy fry into his mouth. It was disgusting. He introduced himself to five more at once. “I get possessed, and my home gets repossessed. You’re a single dad. That’s why I’m trying so hard to play nice with you!”  
“Oh, but you won’t just be possessed. Whatever will I do with the rest of you?” Pitch gasped before clasping his hands together. “Would you like to see?”  
“See wh—“ Suddenly Aster’s ears were grabbed, and he felt one of them turn clockwise, knocking him into a new set of eyes. Only the most powerful spirits had the ability to try that. He blinked the tears of pain back before grabbing at his ears, where the veiny, forceful hands had disappeared. He was in the same spot, but what stood where the rocking chair once did was some sort of cage with a netlike material binding its walls. Even with the ceiling open it didn’t help Aster’s claustrophobia. But then again, for a kit it would be rather hard to leave it. The playpen contained a healthy stock of blankets and stuffed animals, along with a coloring page and jumbo crayons he was apparently working on before the past version of him took over the body, which was a tad shorter than kit Jack’s was. Was he Jack now? He glanced down at the itchy material he was donning waist-up—some kind of sparkly white tutu being used as a top. Jack wouldn’t be caught dead being stuffed into that, not to mention his fur was the same silvery blue as usual.  
Aster had to find his kit immediately. He bit the rubber pacifier in his mouth before starting to climb up the wall, grunting as he swung his right leg around it.  
“Mummy’s comin’, kit,” he managed to gasp out, before he felt frigid hands grab his forearms.  
“Where’re you going, sweetie?” Jack asked, unfazed by Aster’s jaw dropping as he stared into his normal, unscathed face. Nevertheless, the pooka could spot an air of melancholy in his voice. This transformation must have been fairly recent. At least a decade or so. He looked around the rest of the nursery—the furniture stayed the same, but everything that had Jack’s name was replaced with Bunny and the prized truck and airplane toys and decor now had princesses and butterflies in their place, just like how Aster would’ve wanted when he was a real kitling.  
“I-I-I don’t understand,” he stammered out, nearly jumping out of his skin when the pacifier was picked up from the ground—unsanitary—and gently pushed back in his mouth.  
“You’ve got your duckie and your colors in the playpen, baby,” Jack continued, lowering Aster back down and avoiding a few confused swipes to the face in the process. “You can’t play outside when Krolik is awake, silly.”  
Aster knew enough Russian from North’s lusty midnight whispers to know that was his name. It sounded like a curse. He could hear an ear-piercing scream coming from the roof of the cottage and subsequent growls from Pitch as he tried to tie the leash back together.  
It was worse than he could’ve imagined. Even from the tiny ray of natural light poking out the door, he could tell his warren had wilted and was well on its way to rotting. Jack would’ve tried to sustain it, but winter spirits didn’t exactly have a green thumb.  
Aster couldn’t help it—he started to bawl as soon as his feet hit the floor again, holding his knees close to his chest. They could work now, but one could still see white scars under his fur where they’d been hit.  
Jack quickly leapt into the pen to comfort Aster. “It’s okay, Bunny, I wasn’t trying to be mean, I promise.” Aster squeezed his eyes shut as the tears stung them, punishing him for his hotheadedness shoving them into this mess. He leaned against Jack’s chest, not caring how loud his sobbing was as he was hugged tightly and rocked slowly.  
“Sounds like this kit wants a bottle,” he murmured, stroking Aster’s head. It didn’t matter if the pooka protested—it was all baby gibberish to anyone else. He only replied with a sniff and a glance down at what he was working on before. All scribbles. Not even a regard for the drawing of a Persian cat the page came with. His heart continued to break. He was so distracted by this that he didn’t realize Jack had since left and come back with a bottle. Where was the milk coming from, if not him? He glared suspiciously at it before Jack replaced the pacifier’s teet with the bottle’s, and after a few strong gulps Aster discovered it was store-bought baby formula. Disgusting, but he supposed it had to be d—  
“NOOOOO!” came a shriek from the front door of the cottage, which caused Jack to jump and drop the bottle.  
Aster was looking at an insanely warped reflection. Krolik was the same height as he usually was, but he’d lost a frightening amount of weight, even with four extra arms sprouted from his fur, which had faded to an eerie white. His eyes were completely black, so much so that some had leaked out of his tear ducts and down the sides of his nose, but suddenly changed to a glowing green once they landed on what was left of the real Aster.  
“MY KIT,” the lanky pooka screeched, crawling over to the playpen like a spider and slitting the netting open with a curled claw. He sounded like a stock witch voice, as if his real voice had been layered over at varying measures of shrillness.  
“That’s the fifth one this month,” Pitch murmured from the doorway, no longer needing to appeal to a pookan form to stay in the warren. Aster backed away to the other side of the pen before his left leg was grabbed and yanked out the ripped side.  
His crying was now panicked screaming.  
“Bunny’s a little moody today, I’m sorry,” Jack whispered timidly.  
“Milk,” Krolik replied, his voice still agonizing but not as loud and angry as he made his way to the rocking chair and tucked Aster into the crook of one of his arms. Aster didn’t have a word for how unpleasant this was, but sighed and opened his mouth as it received a nipple.  
“C’mon, Krolik, you know that gives him nightmares,” Jack chided sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers.  
“No. More, kit.”  
Aster studied the details of his possessed counterpart’s face as he suckled what was remarkably tasteless. The pink, upturned nose of a bat. The round, solid eyes of a moth. Rough, matted fur and a snaggle tooth coming from his bottom row. His ears looked like the posable ones stuffed rabbits had, like the pink ones in his now destroyed playpen, but one was twisted and another was curled backwards.  
“Good kit. Play.”  
Aster took this as a clue to slip out of his arms and run for his life, but Krolik only tightened his protective grip as Jack looked around the pen’s contents.  
“He was coloring before, maybe he’d want to keep—“  
“No. Doll.”  
“O-Okay, there’s the pink one, the blue one, the purple one,” Jack began as he started listing off the contents of the pile of princess dolls in the toy box against the wall. Aster reached his arms out for Jack as a whine escaped his throat, which Jack apparently took as an answer. He held up the Rapunzel doll for Krolik’s approval, receiving a nod. They still had bits of the same soul to share, Aster and this Krolik. The former took the doll, playing with her hair absently. He had a feeling he was going nowhere until his counterpart fell asleep, and he had a feeling he rarely did.  
Aster awoke back in his real body, nearly jumping out of the rocking chair as Pitch finally loosened his grip.  
“Wh-What was that?” he demanded, his voice going high as it threatened to start sobbing again.  
“Only what will become of us if you don’t stop trying my patience,” Pitch replied. “On that note, I assume you’ve no appetite for dinner. We’ll venture to the bedroom. Even does with broken knees can please their bucks.”


	7. Scarlet & Amber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive rape warning for this one. Not gonna be one of those “don’t like don’t read UwU” bitches so I wanna give out a proper warning beforehand,, oh and the first and last scenes are flashbacks and continues of the first fic that started all this (Bunny Madonna) so yeah

* * *

“It’s alright to cry, kit, but there’s really no need to.”

Jack sniffed. “What?”

“You didn’t think I was gonna stop our fun just because nature was calling, didja?” Aster asked, setting the kit down on his back before gently lifting his legs. It was Jack’s first day wearing the pendant, and after taking a nice afternoon nap with Mommy he’d had his first accident since he was, like, three. Bunny discovered it almost as soon as he opened his emerald eyes, however the pooka was astoundingly calm, as if he expected this. He’d already gotten started on changing his baby, utilizing the designated table before Jack had woken up and more or less lost his mind about it.

“B-But it’s yucky—I mean, gross,” Jack insisted as he was lovingly wiped. “We battle together, after all, a-a-and now you’re just okay with wiping my ass?”

“I am if you don’t put up such a fuss about it. Please stop wiggling, sweetheart.” Aster hummed to himself as he shook a vast amount of baby powder on him, half-muttering half-singing about wanting to tint it so it was easier to see against Jack’s white fur. He then looked him in the eye again, firm yet reassuring. “This was bound to happen, and I’m sure the more you fall into this role the more it’ll keep happening. But it’s only a part of being a Mummy. And I assure you, I have no interest in telling the others what you did nor how I took care of it.” He leaned over and kissed his little pink nose, earning a hesitant chuckle from Jack. “Besides, those plums I fed you functioned as a warning of what I’m willing to put up with. Obviously with your carrying on it must’a gone way over your head,” he teased, pinning a new cloth back on before placing the old one in the wash. Jack stared at the cornucopia of toys before him as Aster set him back down before getting on with the scrubbing, shifting his newly curvaceous, denim-clad hips to the side as he cleaned. Mommy was so beautiful and kind, so ready to take care of anything unfamiliar lest Jack succumb to tears. The frost spirit looked down and grabbed a chunk of his own body, staring at the fluffy stomach roll from all Aster had fed him that day alone in the hopes he could insulate himself properly. “More of you to love,” he’d said when Jack commented on how his romper felt a bit tight now.

“Go on an’ find your panda toy I caught you eyeing, trouble,” Aster cooed, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll getcha back in your other clothes once I finish up.” Jack’s face broke into a grin as he wobbled to his feet, holding onto a chair, before hitting the ground on his bottom and crawling off in search for his new plushie. He noticed Aster smiling out the corner of his eye, as if he were happy his baby couldn’t so much as walk yet without Mama holding each of his paws.

——?——?——?——

“Please, I can’t give you what you’re needing, I hurt all over,” Aster wailed, kicking aimlessly as his wrists were grabbed and cuffed to the bedposts with nightmare sand.

“Lust is one hell of a drug. Maybe I could soothe your wounds,” Pitch whispered, drawing close as he loomed over him.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve probably had bigger than whatever you’re hiding under that robe.”

“Oh?” Pitch paused his disrobing. “How uncharacteristic of you. Why, I always knew you were a whore—everybody does—but for you to just admit it as if you should be canonized for it, it’s really quite spectacular of you.” His trousers dissolved, revealing something long, veiny and rather...alive. “I wonder what your baby boy would think of such a dirty mummy.”

“Keep Jack the hell outta this, please just—“

“Oh, we are so polite today, aren’t we? Now, how can I be polite in saying I’ll fuck your cunt so raw you won’t be able to walk even if I hadn’t broken your knees? In fact, I expect to see it in flames. See, I never recalled seeing you enjoy it dry unless the Sandman had something to do with it.” Pitch snapped his hips forward, prompting a loud gasp and an agonized scream from Aster.

“NO!” he screamed, tears falling already down his cheeks as he yanked against the restraints. “PLEASE, I CAN’T TAKE IT!”

“Oh, what’s the worst that could happen? You have to run off crying to your little friends and explain that the big bad nightmare king ripped you a new hole? Oh, I bet they’ll just fuck themselves senseless hearing about that.” He kept pushing, moaning out as Aster continued to scream and sob and beg, all of which was music to his ears. “I bet you even enjoyed that little experience I gave you, sending you forward in time. You liked being in Jack’s place, having to look your primal manifestation in the eye. But you know what the saddest thing is about this Krolik?”

Pitch looked as if he was pondering for a moment before scowling and smacking Aster’s ass, getting a keen and a cry of “what?”

“It’s that I can’t fuck it without feeling like I’m violating an animal. And at this point I’m so close to feeling it with you—not just for your looks, but because I keep finding those beautiful buttons and pushing them so hard...” He kept fucking Aster’s vagina, the slapping noises almost deafening. “And you’re only getting closer to that pesky breaking point.”

“Stop,” Aster weakly ordered, barely able to move.

“Would you rather I transmogrified into your dearly departed husband? Let’s see, what was his name...”

“Plutarch, j-just please lemme g—“

“Shut your deplorable little mouth, doe. I’m wearing the necklace, aren’t I? Perhaps while I take care of this, you can pretend it’s your dreamboat keeping you company. I’m sure he would have let you fall asleep at the wheel.” Pitch punctuated this with another sharp thrust, prompting an agonized wail from the only real pooka in the warren. Aster gulped, squeezing his eyes shut before looking up. It wasn’t one of Pitch’s worst ideas—if only he could erase what had led up to it. He sighed raggedly as a blurry picture of his late husband began to come into focus. Round and robust, with as much gut as he had muscles, Plutarch functioned as a shield as much as a lover and father to Aster’s children. He was already running his fingers through his scarlet fur—beautiful—daring himself to fall into almond-shaped eyes tinted a deep brown. He was gorgeous, the perfect warrior to his scholarly self. When his body was replaced with smoke and ashes Aster had to pick up both roles and more to preserve everything that remained. Each hump sent Aster to high heaven now. He was back in the routine—back to making litter after litter of perfect little angels that bore his or Plutarch’s eyes, smile or personality, each in a winning combination. He didn’t even care that his love wasn’t speaking—Aster did all the talking anyway as a hostess, compensating for the other’s strong and silent nature by being somewhat passive. That version of Aster was unrecognizable to him now. He clutched the other’s back, heaving our a few sobs until there was a sudden, stiff halt, then a withdraw of Pitch’s arousal.

“Lie down for an hour or so,” he ordered, returning to his black sheen and bulky frame as the boogeyman slid off the bed. “I had no idea what to do with all that added weight—it’s a miracle I didn’t suffocate you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on our kit.”

Aster blinked, not noticing his jaw hung open from his latest ethereal experience. He still wasn’t sure whether Pitch had fingered him while he was at the stove, yet here he was, left like roadkill in his own sacred nest.

 _I shoulda seen it comin’,_ he thought to himself, blinking back tears as he rolled to his side. How long had Pitch been wanting this? Did he really think he was in the right here, claiming custody over Jack—his kit, Aster’s baby, Aster’s—and raping more out?

“ ** _GOD_** **_FUCKIN’_ _DAMMIT!_** ” he screamed into the air, receiving no response, not even from Pitch. Why didn’t Aster think to turn Jack back so he could save him? Did he secretly want more kits, no matter the cost? With all these stupid questions he never wanted to plague his mind yet plaguing his mind nonetheless, Aster supposed all that was left to do for the night was cry himself to sleep.

——?——?——?——

“And this one’s the owner of the establishment?” Aster asked, jabbing his thumb to the side where Jack’s stuffed panda sat. He snickered as he got a playful laugh and a “no!” in reply from his kit. Jack had already set out a tea party for his toys before Aster could finish the boy’s laundry, and apparently he was the guest of honor, since he’d received the most flowery hat upon his arrival. “Ah, so who do I hafta thank for this incredible service? Really, it’s not often one gets a train track surrounding their own tea party.” He eyed the toy steam train speedily passing the two of them by with a smirk. “Though I must ask if you’re awfully cold with only a diaper on and frost on your fingertips.”

“Hat’s warm!” Jack cooed, petting the winter hat with ear flaps that he donned.

“Well crikey, now I just feel overdressed. Boas are already so last century anyway. You’ve got quite the timeless look about you.” Aster sipped at his pretend tea before glancing at the ceiling. “Do I dare to ask if you know all the guest’s names already?”

“Mommy,” Jack began firmly, pointing a pudgy finger at Aster, whose own paw fluttered dramatically to his chest as he struggled to hide his amusement. “Sprinkles, mac an’ cheese, sock, lemon, toot and...” He bit his lip in thought, visibly struggling to pick out a name for a stuffed puppy.

“If I might make a suggestion?” Aster held a mock-timid finger up as he eyed the toy. “This one seems rather glamorous. How about Lulu?”

“Lu-lu,” Jack squeaked, sounding it out before beginning to blast the name on repeat, bouncing on his bent legs. Aster didn’t care, he couldn’t mind even if his life depended on it. He could only grab Jack and pull him close, tearing up and praising the gods that he had such a perfect little boy, just liked he’d been doing since the start.


End file.
